


a chapter waiting to be written

by JennaTalbot



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Helen Gansey (mentioned) - Freeform, I dont know what to tag this as im sorry i forgot how to fic, M/M, New Year's Eve, its ronsey i dont know what else you expect from me at this point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 14:50:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17789429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaTalbot/pseuds/JennaTalbot
Summary: Gansey groaned and slumped back against the railing. “That was a disaster.”“That,” Ronan countered with a raised eyebrow, “was magnificent.”Gansey pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ronan, in what universe is causing a scene in the middle of my mother’s campaign party and successfully ticking off her and Helen and the current Secretary of the Interior, and probably everyone else out there, magnificent?”Ronan seemed to ponder that for a moment. “All of them, I think.”





	a chapter waiting to be written

Gansey sighed and put his forehead on the balcony banister, the winter chill biting into his exposed skin. Even with two floors and three closed doors between him and the now-resumed party, the sounds weren’t as muffled as he would have liked, and the buzz of conversation was a constant unwelcome companion. 

It was a cool night, but Gansey knew he would be fine in just his suit jacket for longer than he was sure to be left alone for. It would only be a matter of minutes before Helen came to find him and drag him back downstairs at his mother’s angry request. It wasn’t the first time he had left a party for some solitude, although this had been his most dramatic exit by far. Blue would probably be proud. 

Mrs. Gansey rarely got mad, but Gansey knew he had crossed the line earlier. He couldn’t exactly bring himself to feel bad about it, but he knew he should have kept his mouth shut. This black tie New Year’s Eve party was important to his mother and her campaign, and she and Helen had spent months planning down to the last detail. He had been included in the preparations until he claimed preference for the wrong color of napkin, then his party planning privileges had been revoked. He couldn’t say that he had been sorry about that either.   

Gansey was sure his little outburst hadn’t been among the details Helen had planned for. 

He heaved another sigh and closed his eyes, doing his best to block out anything and everything. Behind him, the glass door slid open, catching halfway as it was wont to do, and Gansey sighed, bracing himself.

“Look, I’m sorry—” the apology died as Gansey spun around and saw a familiar shark-like grin in front of him. 

“That was some show.”

It wasn’t Helen, but Ronan Lynch standing in front of him in the impeccably tailored suit that Gansey hadn’t even known that the other boy owned. Maybe he hadn’t; maybe he dreamt it up when Gansey had practically begged him to come to his mother’s party so he didn’t have to attend alone. The thought sent a slight flutter of happiness through Gansey—that Ronan might have cared enough about this stupid event to put some effort into it.  

Gansey groaned and slumped back against the railing. “That was a disaster.”   
  
“That,” Ronan countered with a raised eyebrow, “was magnificent.”

Gansey pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ronan, in what universe is causing a scene in the middle of my mother’s campaign party and successfully ticking off her and Helen  _ and  _ the current Secretary of the Interior, and probably everyone else out there, magnificent?”   


Ronan seemed to ponder that for a moment. “All of them, I think.”

“Right,” Gansey scoffed as he turned back around so he was looking out over the railing again. He should have known better than to ask Ronan Lynch of all people. 

The Gansey manor was nestled on the outskirts of Washington D.C., close enough that Gansey could see the light pollution and hear the bustle of the city, but far enough that they were afforded some semblance of privacy. The perfectly manicured lawn and the parade of expensive cars in the drive added to the feel that they were in their own world, so far from the Henrietta that he loved.

It had only been two days, but Gansey was already homesick for the sleepy little town.   

He felt the press of warmth as Ronan settled against the rail next to him. It was only then that Gansey realized how cold he was, now that the adrenaline had started wearing off. Maybe the night was colder than he had first thought. 

“So, are we just hiding out here for the rest of the night?”

Gansey lifted an eyebrow. “We?”

“Uh yeah,” Ronan scoffed. “No offense, but I didn’t come here because I wanted to wear a suit and listen to a bunch of politicians see who can kiss the most ass. It’s disgusting.”   


“Why did you come?” Gansey turned his head towards Ronan, genuinely curious. 

Ronan didn’t look it in his suit and his perfectly straight tie, but Gansey knew he was out of his element here. The Lynches had wealth, but that was where the similarities between their families ended. Gansey had been groomed his whole life to be a politician’s son—he always knew the right thing to say, the appropriate emotions to display, and which ones should be hidden away. He knew how to charm a crowd and flatter people with what they wanted to hear. Once you understood people, it was a simple formula. 

Ronan’s upbringing was wild, unpredictable—the stuff of dreams. His father was rarely around, but not for the reasons of absent parenting that Gansey was used to. Ronan had been free to roam and dream and create, with no one to cater to but himself.

Sometimes, Gansey envied him.   


“Because you asked me to,” Ronan answered simply. Gansey waited for further explanation, but none came.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, or as close to silence as they could get with the party still in full swing below them. Gansey suppressed a shiver. He wasn’t ready to go back in yet. 

“You know,” Ronan started, “telling the Secretary Minister of blah blah whatever that he had  a really aggressive choice of tie was a nice touch . Very Gansey of you.”

Gansey winced. “That was bad, wasn’t it?”

“I would have just told him to get fucked, but yours sounded more scandalous,” Ronan shrugged.

“You’re mocking me.”

Ronan smiled his shark grin again and put a hand over his heart. “I would never.”

That caused Gansey to snort. “Ronan Lynch, that is the second biggest lie you’ve ever told.”

“You wound me,” Ronan replied. 

They lapsed back into a comfortable silence. Too often Gansey was dragged to these events, and it meant constant interaction: constantly asking and answering questions, and pretending to be invested in things he frankly couldn’t care less about. Gansey was good at it, but that didn’t mean he liked it. To him, all of this was a waste of time. He had books to read and a sleeping king to find and mysteries to solve.

Standing out here with Ronan was a welcome and much needed change of pace, but Gansey knew it couldn’t last. 

“I suppose I should go and find Helen and apologize to her,” he mused.

“Don’t bother,” Ronan replied. “I told her to give you some space.”   


Gansey paused. “And she listened?

“Yeah.”   


“We are talking about the same Helen right? My sister? The busybody who can’t leave anyone be for more than five minutes at a time? That Helen?”

Ronan snorted. “I don’t know any other Helens, so yeah, that would be the one.”

“Huh,” was all Gansey managed to reply. He couldn’t remember a single time in his life that Helen had given him space when he needed it. That was usually reserved for when he actually needed something from her. 

“I told her that I would find you and that she shouldn’t bother. Oh, and I also told her she had better get to the kitchens and see to the mess there.”

Gansey frowned, playing back the fiasco in his mind. “We were nowhere near the kitchens.”   
  
This time, Ronan’s grin was positively wicked. “I know.”   
  
“Ronan, what did you  _ do _ ?”

He crossed his arms defensively against the railing. “Nothing got hurt, I just made sure to cause a slight… distraction, something to keep her occupied and take her mind off of coming to find you.” 

“She’s going to kill us tomorrow,” Gansey sighed. He was mostly sure that the lock on his door still functioned.  

“She gets to put her party-planning, problem-solving personality to work. She’s probably having the time of her life down there.”

Gansey didn’t agree, but he appreciated what Ronan had done for him nonetheless, so he didn’t argue. “Everything about today was a complete catastrophe,” he said instead.

Ronan looked thoughtful. “Maybe not everything,” he said, pointing down towards the large windows below. 

Gansey turned, and saw everyone gathered inside, a drink in hand. He was able to pick out his mother and Helen, neither looking any worse for wear, although he didn’t see the Secretary of the Interior among the black suits. 

It took him a moment to realize that everyone was gathered for the countdown to the new year. 

“Five…”   
  
Ronan looked over at Gansey, his eyes impossibly blue.

“Four…”   
  
He leaned in slightly, and Gansey felt his pulse speed up.

“Three…”   
  
Suddenly, Ronan’s hand was on the back of his neck, and Gansey wasn’t sure he remembered how to breath.

“Two…”

Ronan was close now, so close, when did he get so close?

“One…”

As cheers erupted below, Ronan’s lips met Gansey’s, and Gansey forgot that he was cold and that today was supposed to have been a train wreck. Suddenly, everything felt right in the world.

“Happy New Year, Gansey.”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> As usual, kudos and comments keep me alive, and thank you all for taking the time to read this! I haven't written anything about anything since November so either way I'm proud I managed to get something up, even if it's not my best work /shrug. You can find me on tumblr @richardcampbells!


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